Good Reason, a Mythos flash fiction by Jean M. Hodges

If things were left completely up to Mya, she might not have had any friends at all.

Not that Mya was against having friends, but by age five she had learned there was a distinction between her and other children.

For one thing, Mya was the only child in Sanguine, where she lived with her Grandfather at the Sha Estate, what Sha’s were want to do, she supposed.

It could be that despite their youthful appearances, were at least a couple centuries old, and well past the age of having children. This brought a few good things, like whenever Papa’s guests came over for dinner and they snuck little presents of gold and treats to her underneath the dinner table, and the adults would dote on her, happy to have such an interesting Halfling be part of Merlot’s family.

But they were a nocturnal lot, so they were all snug in their own homes and catacombs, and Mya was alone. At least she had Tiri, and the panther cub was happy to keep her mistress happy.

*

Another reason Mya could do without friends was that the Sha family was simply better. Her Papa, Merlot Sha gave a lot of his money to the poor, made secret donations to shabby orphanages and tips his hat to the bums in the slums, but he made this point.

“You were born with special blood, which makes you a special person, baby girl. Now, you have to be kind and gracious to everyone, but you don’t bring them home with you.”

“Why not, Papa?” Mya had asked, as she watched her grandfather count up his money.

Merlot blinked. “Cuz we’re better, of course.”

“Because we’re better…” Mya whispered to herself.

And Merlot nodded. “Of course.”

*

Another good reason Mya wouldn’t want friends is …

They were sitting in the town trolley to the movies. Papa said it would be easier than taking the car.

The lawyer had finally said that Grandpapa’s house was Mya’s new home, and to celebrate, Papa took them out to go see the new Pirate Sun movie-in the daytime, even! – and Mya had spent so much time bouncing excited in her seat, to the point where her maidservant Anna had to strap her to her seat with an old belt to finish up a set of goddess braids.

And then she heard her Papa tell her Father the good news, only for him to hang up as Papa tried to get Mya on speaker.

And then Mya frowned as Papa tried over and over again to get her Daddy back on the phone.

Then Papa hung up, and gathered his wallet and umbrella, then Mya’s hand, and they were off.

Another good reason Mya wouldn’t want friends is …

It was quiet on the trolley, Mya sitting with her legs crossed and Papa nose deep in an Azzy City newspaper, checking showtimes.

Mya was a quiet child, and she was special and lonely and sad and angry and happy and sad-

Then someone pulled on her arm. “Pardon, mademoiselle? Would you like some of my sandwiches?”

Mya looked over and saw around her own age, holding out a paper bag with huge, expectant eyes.

Mya blinked, but then she was a pair of ripped jeans and dirty boots push the boy into the seat behind Mya’s, murmuring, “Yvonna, leave the little girl alone! Sorry about that baby, he’s just excited. We’re going to the movies!”

Mya looked up to see a young woman with a huge, buoyant smile that matched her son’s, looking down at Mya and nodding her head respectfully at Papa.

“Oh, me too! Erm, excuse me, my name is Mya Sha, how do you do?” Mya said, holding out her hand like a grown-up.

And the boy smiled wider. “Maaaaaaaaaaa-yaaaaaaaaaaaaa! That’s pretty! You can call me Von! Let’s sit next to each other, is that OK, Mama?” Von said, looking up at his mother, who just giggled and nodded.

Mya looked up her Papa, who smirked and shrugged and went back to his paper.

Mya looked at the boy. “That would be lovely. I’d love to sit next to you.”

And they did. And Mya ate her half of the sandwich in the darkness as the movie played.